Wanting to be Different
by Live Fire
Summary: Fred has lived his life in the shadow of his parents fame. Everyone expects him to follow after them once he leaves Hogwarts but Fred has something different in mind.


_**6 / 325: CharlieFredII**_

Fred Weasley (the second) had a namesake that was extremely hard to live up to. Whenever somebody heard it, they instantly assumed that he would crack a joke, or sneak some Puking Pastils into their pumpkin juice over breakfast.

But he wasn't like that at all. In fact, jokes weren't really his thing. As a child, yes, he had loved going to his father's joke shop and looking at all the new toys. Being the son of the owner, he never had to pay once - he still didn't - but then he went off to Hogwarts and other things began interesting him.

At first it was the castle itself. There were so many places to turn, so many passages to sneak down, and he loved exploring every single thing.

Next came Quidditch. There was something about the sport that got him. He was Gryffindor's Beater, and a damn good one, too, which made both of his parents proud. Quidditch ran in the family - those who didn't like it were shunned (not really, but still...)

Then it turned into girls. He grew older and he started to notice them. April Thompson was quite the looker, and he liked watching her.

He never did have the courage to talk to her, though.

And although he still liked girls and Quidditch even now, he had a new passion - one that he knew wouldn't be accepted as willingly as if he were to announce he was taking up professional Quidditch.

He was only a few months away from finishing his final year at Hogwarts, and he knew it was time he started thinking about what he wanted to do. He studied hard - he took all the right classes - and now the only thing he needed to do was see if his choice was doable.

He needed to speak to his Uncle Charlie.

Charlie was a lively fellow, who kept to himself most of the time. He'd come back for important family gatherings, but most of the time, he was happy to be in Romania by himself.

But it was Rose's birthday, now, and he'd been forced to come home for the weekend, so Fred found it easy to get his uncle alone.

"Uncle Charlie!" he said, approaching him in the kitchen of the Burrow as he helped his mother bring in all the dishes from the lunch they'd just had.

"How's it going, Freddie?" Charlie asked cheerfully, but Fred cringed at the nick name. When he'd been five, it was cute, but he was eighteen now. He'd simply prefer Fred.

"I need to ask you something," Fred said. He glanced over his shoulder - his grandmother was just coming back again with another handful of food.

"Ask away," Charlie said.

"Well... are they looking for anyone in Romania? Like... assistants?"

Whatever Charlie had been expecting from his nephew, that apparently wasn't it. his eyes widened in surprise, the wrinkles that came with age apparent. "Why do you ask?" he wanted to know.

"Well," and Fred lowered his voice as Molly Weasley entered, "I wouldn't mind doing what you do," he said.

There was no hiding the surprise on his uncle's face, nor the concern. He clearly didn't think it a good idea as Fred did.

"It's a dangerous profession," Charlie warned. "Very dangerous." As if searching for proof to turn his nephew off, he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the thousands of scars up and down his arms. most appeared to be burn marks, but there were a few that potentially looked like a dragon had tasted him for lunch.

Fred, naturally, thought it added to Charlie's character, and beamed. "Did it hurt?" he questioned.

"A lot," Charlie replied seriously. "Please reconsider this choice."

"No way!" Fred said, admiring a burn mark that went the full length of Charlie's fore arm. "I've been reading up about dragons. I think I can handle it. And... you'll be there to help."

"Fred," Charlie said, leaning down and putting his hands on his nephew's shoulders, "What you've got to understand is that if anything happens, in training or in the actual job, my first priority is to get the dragon eggs, not save you."

Fred's face slackened. "Oh," he said. "Why's that?"

Charlie chuckled as he sat down at the table, "You really haven't read into the job description at all have you?"

"Yes I have," Fred said indignantly.

Charlie sighed, "When a mother dragon gets enraged, she's a killing machine, she has no control over whether she kills a human or her own unhatched eggs. She could step on them, burn them to a crisp or whip them away with her tail. So, when she gets pissed off, you don't run, you get the eggs straight away and try not to get hurt."

"I can do that!" Fred said. "I'm pretty quick on a broom, you know. I take after you, Uncle Charlie."

"I'm afraid even a broom won't be fast enough for a mother dragon, Fred. All I ask is you think carefully about what you want to do. The number of times I've almost died, you can't even count on your fingers. Do you think your mother would want that for you, or your father for that matter?"

"No, but I'm seventeen now, so it's not really their decision."

"You're still their son, though. I know my mother - your grandmother - hated it when I went over there, and I can't imagine either of your parents feeling any different. They'll worry every single day; and as a trainee, you'll be doing nothing more than collecting dragon scales for potions."

"I'm fine with that!" Fred exclaimed. "Truly, I am. Can you just ask them? Please? Mum was a good Quidditch player - and so was Dad, who also owns the most popular joke shop around. I've got to do something with my life that doesn't mean I'm compared to them every single day."

Charlie frowned. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "I guess if you feel that strongly about this I suppose I can put in a good word for you. You'll be away from home a lot though; are you prepared for that too?"

"Yes," Fred said earnestly, "I can do this. Just give me a chance! Please, Uncle _Charles_?"

Charlie sighed, cringing at the use of his full name. "Alright!" he relented. "I'll talk to the boss there, see what he can do. I can't promise anything, and you'll need your parents blessing, too. Otherwise, I won't do it."

"Fine," Fred agreed. "But ask first, parents second?"

Charlie nodded. "It's a deal," he said. "I'll talk to them when I go back."

Molly had just wandered into the kitchen again, levitating another plate of food out to the yard.

"Now, I guess, we need to celebrate Rose's birthday."

Fred nodded. "Thanks, Uncle Charlie," he said. "And, sorry for calling you Charles."

Charlie gave an indifferent shrug. "I know that's when I need to be serious." He grinned. "Let's go before Rose yells at us. You definitely don't want to get on her bad side."

Fred agreed. "Just imagine," he said, "Soon we will be working together!"

"Maybe," Charlie reminded him.

"Mum and Dad will agree. Dad'll think it's great."

"We'll see," Charlie surmised. "But let's not mention it yet, okay. It's between us. Now... oh... that looks like roast pork!"

Without another word, he joined the family at the table, sitting at the complete opposite end to where Fred was forced to sit. Fred didn't mind however, as he knew that one day soon he would be working alongside his favourite Uncle in Romania, and the thought of that alone made enduring Rose's birthday party so much easier.


End file.
